


The Detention Trope

by AlwaysEroticWrestling, ThisGuyFvcks



Series: High Spots High [5]
Category: All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series), Professional Wrestling, Ring of Honor
Genre: And Windows, Boys Being Boys, Detention, Feelings, Hardcore Idiots, Havoc is a cheery scene kid, Highschool AU, JERICHO IS THE PRINCIPAL, Jimmy Havoc's Staple Gun, Jon Moxley is edge, Marty is just trying to have a good time, Nick Jackson is a feral magician, broken skateboards, this is a john hughes film
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-29 19:44:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysEroticWrestling/pseuds/AlwaysEroticWrestling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisGuyFvcks/pseuds/ThisGuyFvcks
Summary: Chapter One: Darby Allin is a freshman. And he's got detention with a bunch of fucking weirdos...God does he want to be their friend.Chapter Two: Joey Janela and Jimmy Havoc talk through the Bad Boy's bad break-up.
Series: High Spots High [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536658
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Detention sucked ass. Missing out on a lunch period, just because he was ten minutes late to class seemed like overkill to Darby Allin. Then again, he was a freshman. So maybe he just didn’t get it. 

Either way he certainly hadn’t intended to be tardy… again. His skateboard just got wrecked taking a shortcut in. He had to jog the last mile and a half. But that ancient coot Mr. Hebner wasn’t taking any excuses. He’d arrived with torn jeans and a little road-rash from his wipeout, and that’d earned him a few looks. Darby didn’t care, though, holding his chin up as he passed the other students in the hall on his way to the designated time-out classroom.  
At least he arrived to detention on time. Or early, seeing as how there was only one other kid there. He had a pretty sharp looking beard for a teenager, but beyond that and the dark clothing, Darby couldn’t really see what he looked like. Maybe the circle mirror shades were too distracting. Then again, so was the way he hummed animatedly. Darby took the seat in the back row of the classroom, school provided ‘you’ve done bad’ lunch bag in hand.  
He hadn’t even unwrapped his PB and J when the door opened again.  
Darby thought he was pale, but looking at this guy walking in he realized he was mistaken. The shock of black hair that fell half over one of his eyes contrasted with his very aggressive side shave. His nails were painted black and cut short.  
Darby glanced at own sharpied nails and, for a second, he considered asking the older guy about what bands he liked. Unfortunately as soon as he opened his mouth, a horrible sound had him jumping in his seat and slamming his knees into his desk.  
“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOUR BODY-”  
Darby whipped his head around to the other kid, with the round sunglasses and tight manbun in the back, who was apparently getting very into the Ed Sheeran piping in through his headphones.  
Darby was horrified.  
The other kid walked past him to sit in the corner, a desk buffer between them.  
“Fuck’s sake, Marty.” He seemed to talk to the guy that was singing, but it was pretty clear he hadn’t heard him. He rolled his kohl-lined eyes and sunk in his seat.  
The door opened again and this was a face he recognized. Mostly because it was the principal. He had a blazer that was somehow expensive and horribly ostentatious with a shirt that was probably undone a button or two more than any faculty member should’ve.  
“Get in there, Jackson. I’ll be watching from across the hall so...Don’t try any of that weird shit.” One of twins (Darby couldn’t remember which was which despite them not being identical) walked in looking somewhere between guilty and pleased with himself.  
“Goes for the rest of you too-” Principal Jericho entered the room. “SCURLL.” His voice reached an octave one wouldn’t have expected him capable of. The kid with the earbuds jumped.  
“Sorry.” Jericho stalked over and confiscated the listening device with a yank. Then he swiped his sunglasses as well. His finger was in Marty’s face. “Watching you.” In one fluid movement he had the sunglasses on his own face. He mumbled something about exchange students and went to walk back out, eyes still threateningly on the room. That had been a poor decision, as he almost crashed into a student in the door.  
“Moxley. Glad you could make it. Thought we’d have to see a truancy officer again.”  
The chestnut-haired student didn’t even acknowledge the statement as he shouldered past him. His jacket had some faded graffiti on it, and while Darby only got a brief look at his face he could tell he was painfully disinterested.  
He sat in the middle of the room, arms folded lazily over his chest as he sunk in his seat. Jericho did head count and checked it with something on his phone.  
“Gangs all here. See you at three twenty.” And with that, Jericho shut the door to sit at his office across the hall. 

The silence that settled for a brief few minutes was broken by the Sheeran crooner.  
“Nick. Mate. Where’s your shoes?”  
Darby looked down. The British guy was right. Nick’s bare toes wiggled on the tiled floor.

“Yeah, about that,” the shoe-less Jackson laughed and took a seat in front of Marty, choosing to sit backwards in his chair. “I was just working on this quick-change magic trick where I switch clothes with Matt, right, but like, real fast-” Darby, perhaps out of curiosity and perhaps out of having nothing else to do, listened in to the story. “....And then my shoes were still gone. Right then, those hall monitors-”  
Marty piped in, grinning like he was absolutely enchanted by the tale-  
“Those two with the names like a couple of Tv dramar police?”  
“Breeze and Fandango, yeah, those two idiots- Detention! They gave me detention for not having shoes. Can you even believe it? I mean, it was probably also the flash paper going off in a totally small fire but I think it was mostly the shoes. Last week they said Matt’s sideburns should be considered a felony.”  
“That’s just mean,” Marty mumbled.  
“Okay fuck this.” A voice interjected from the center of the room, and a desk squeaked across the floor as Mox stood up. He had everyone’s attention as he stalked to the window.  
He regarded the glass for a moment, and then picked up an unoccupied chair. He held it for a moment, seeming to get a feel for it’s weight.  
This was going very bad very quickly.  
Darby looked at his goth row mate for guidance. He was sitting up straight and smiling as he watched.  
Moxley put the chair down. Darby felt a little bit relieved but perhaps a little more disappointed.  
“Havoc?” He looked over his shoulder, catching eyelinered-eyes in his gaze.  
“Hm?”  
“Got a knife?”  
Oh. It was getting bad again. Marty and Nick regarded one another, but even the Jackson seemed to know to shut up and to let this play out.  
Havoc, without standing, leaned over and whipped something out of his boot.  
“Yeah. ‘Course.” He sounded delighted as he tossed the folded little square through the air. Mox caught it deftly and shot Havoc a half grin.  
The sound of the knife clicking open seemed to echo in the room as everyone watched.  
In about twenty seconds, Mox had it jammed in the window pane, pushing the locking mechanism free. He slid the window opened and took a breath of fresh air.

And then he viciously cut through the mesh screen with the blade provided.  
When he deemed the hole big enough turned back to Havoc, making a throwing motion.  
Havoc held his hand back out to signal the return, and Mox gave him an underhand toss. Darby couldn’t help but notice the blade was still out.  
Havoc caught it by the handle without so much as a flinch and returned it to it’s hiding place. “Cheers.”  
“Coming?” Mox offered, the curls of his shaggy hair bouncing as he nodded to the window.  
Havoc seemed to weigh the option, glancing at the bright and sunny field outside.  
“Nah, M’alrigh,” he said with a shrug, before settling back in his chair.  
“Suit yourself.” Mox began to climb through the window.  
“That’s - we’re on the second floor,” Darby felt like he had to interject here.  
Moxley looked at him just briefly before climbing through.  
“Don’t care.”  
He lowered himself down and then he was out of eyesight.  
Nick got up first to peer out.  
“He’s fine, “ he informed the room. Then he looked at Marty. “Bet you twenty bucks I can monkey flip out of this thing and stick the landing.”  
Marty chuckled. 

“I could do it,” Darby offered up. “Make it forty. Bet I can stick a better landing than you.” He had to make himself stand out here somehow. And hell, in this school, seemed like the best way to make friends anyway. Nick seemed to consider the offer. During the pause a muffled “Dickhead!” could be heard from outside.  
Nick Jackson smiled and looked positively psychotic.  
“Oh you’re on, Freshy.”


	2. Friends who Stab Together....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey Janlea and Jimmy Havoc found themselves in their homeroom class yet again. Detention. Joey gets stabbed and Jimmy does the stabbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A collab between Mods Jaxwell Faxwell and Obmoxious. See our favorite hardcore doofuses have some important bonding time featuring talk about their feelings and a lot of staples.

  
  


Joey took a long drag off his strawberry cigarillo. 

It was bad. 

It was delicious. 

He frowned and exhaled the smoke in a long stream. The fact that he shouldn’t be doing this in class ranked low on his worries right now. The math test he was taking was also a lot lower on the list than it should have been but he was still keyed up from the article that Corn-whoever the fuck had written for the rival school.

For one he had no proof that Joey was the one who vandalized the triple H gymnasium. For two where did he get off calling Joey ‘Jelly’? 

“Mr. Janela!” 

Joey looked up with wide eyes and poked the cigarillo completely into his mouth.   
The teacher rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “I already saw it, step into the hall and I’ll deal with you in a second.”

Joey exhaled, smoke pouring out his nostrils and he coughed the cigarillo back up, slouching out into the hallway and looking blankly into the distance. 

“Hey kid!” 

For the second time Joey looked up with wide eyes, the difference is that this time he didn’t swallow the cigarillo and instead puffed smoke directly into the Janitor’s face. Which was how he ended up being hauled off by Principal Jericho. 

“We’re going to go over this again. Just in case you’re deaf or y’know, stupid, Janela. You can’t blow smoke in Janitor Knox’s face. I- I don’t know why I have to keep telling you this. “ Principal Jericho wasn’t having it today, half dragging Janela by the arm down the hallway. 

“You can’t smoke in class! You can’t smoke on campus! Why’s it --” 

Another sight caught his eye, and he had to break his stride and double back.

“Havoc. What the -hell- is that?” 

Jimmy looked up from what he was working on.

“...A letter?” 

Anyone in the vicinity would swear that in that moment they heard something break inside of their principal.

“Your other hand, Havoc.”

“Oh.” Jimmy looked down and held it up. “Straight razor.” He said it like it was the second most mundane school supply to a spiral notebook. “How else am I supposed to open the letter?”

“.... Hand it over.” After a brief moment of consideration, Havoc folded the gleaming blade and held it out to Jericho’s free hand. He looked briefly at Janela, who was still clutched in the other hand like an irksome toddler. Jericho snatched the weapon and put it in his blazer pocket. Then he was grabbing Havoc by the wrist and yanking him down the hall as well.

“Deten-she-on’! There’s going to be a lot of detention. Basically, you’re going to live there. Long term lease. “ He’d break out the padlock this time. It warranted it.

Joey laughed a little bit as he was dumped into Havoc’s normal desk and Havoc was dumped into Joey’s regular one. He and Joey both flipped Principal Jericho off as the man left the room and then got up and switched desks. 

“Cool knife by the way.” Joey commented, already pulling out a new cigarillo from behind his ear. 

They could hear the door lock clicking into place as they took up their regular residences. Detention was, essentially, their homeroom class at this point.

“Yeah? That was one of my favorites.” Havoc let out a wistful sigh and rested his chin on his palm. “He seemed like his arsehole was particularly tense today, didn’ he?” He nodded to the door where their principal had just exited. 

“Oh dude, his asshole was puckered to shit!” Joey laughed, making a sucking noise as he lit his cigarillo up. 

“Hope we’re not missing anything fun,” Havoc mused briefly, watching smoke curl around Janela’s head. “So. Been a few days since you’ve been in. Catch me up.”

Joey coughed lightly and tipped his head back, blowing the smoke straight up and grateful for the people who built this school and were happy to let kids burn alive in class. “Let’s see, not much, had detention with Maxwell Jacob Fuckman and Diamond Dallas had us repaint the football field so when you see Trent doing a touchdown dance on a fresh new endzone that was a-me.” 

“Riveting.” Jimmy stretched out like a big cat, flicking another knife back and forth. “Oh what about the bird, uh, Penelope?” Jimmy asked like he didn’t remember her name. He remembered, he just didn’t like her. 

“Oh. We’re great.” Joey told the ceiling before taking another long drag and changing his mind. “She broke up with me on a snapchat after posting a public video of her eating out Sabian’s mouth so we’re _ so _ good.” 

Jimmy Havoc made a wince that was reminiscent of pain. It wasn’t a usual look for him.

“Tough turn. Kip’s a cunt so they deserve each other.” He hesitated, then reached over and patted Janela on the shoulder roughly. Joey smacked him back on reflex. 

“We can play pinfingers if you’d like,” he offered with a genuine grin. It always made him feel better.

Joey grinned and spread his hand out on the desk, rolling the smoke to the corner of his mouth.

“Hell yeah but you better leave me with some dope ass scars, Havoc.”

“Better on the outside than the inside,” Havoc shrugged. Usually, in this sort of game, one would put the knife between their own fingers. Jimmy had longsince found this boring and modified it so that you dodged your opponents fingers instead. He pulled out his phone and put his mood music on shuffle. AFI was absolutely a nice start.

“So Page had you fucking about with that prep-school prick? Insult to injury innit?” He waited for Janela’s hand to go flat on the desk before trying out a test round or two with his smaller pocket knife. The tip thunked softly in the varnished wood, five more marks among many as he went back and forth with the beat.

Joey put his chin on his hand, blowing smoke out of his nose as he drummed his fingers on the table, wishing for nicks. “Coulda been worse, I guess.”

“Not much.” Jimmy narrowly avoided sinking the knife into Joey’s middle finger. 

“Careful, that’s my favorite one.” Joey snickered, “Not much yeah… he was okay though, got in trouble with me for playing the penis game in class.”

“Look at you. Corrupting the posh and incorruptible.” Jimmy cut his eyes up to Joey’s as he let the knife stick in the desk at the end of his round. He placed his own hand down and mirrored Joey’s pose with his chin on his other palm. 

Joey took a moment to listen to the beat of the song before settling into it and setting to work lazily attempting to avoid Jimmy’s fingers. He wouldn’t hit him. He was too good at this to hit anyone. Not even the Jackson boys, twitchy as they could get, ever got hit when he handled the knife. 

Jimmy honestly wasn’t even watching the knife. Joey was good, and even if happened to be cut it wouldn’t be the first time he was bleeding out in a locked room.

“Listen. Mate. I get it. Hot blonde number does you wrong. T’s hard to shake. We can talk about it. If it saves you from a visit with Counselor Page n’all.”

Joey thunked the knife into the desk hard enough it stuck standing up and he scowled as he reached to tug it back out. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

“I’m just… pissed off. She and I are on and off I know but it fucking sucks that she breaks up with me and then immedieatly starts sucking face with Kip Goddamn Sabian.” Joey finally yanked the knife free and pointing it at Jimmy, “What the fuck does he have that I don’t have! I have a fake ID! I can get White Claws! I can get a job and pay for shit instead of just stealing it! And she  _ liked _ that about me!” he stabbed the knife down into the desk again and moped into his crossed arms, maybe he did wanna talk. “We should find Kip. We should kill him.” he said because he felt like he should more than because he actually wanted to. 

Jimmy let Joey rant, sitting quietly until he was well and finished. Havoc wasn’t the type to poke fun at feelings, regardless of whether they were sentimental or homicidal. 

“I mean. We  _ could _ . It wouldn’t be difficult. But it’d probably be pretty obvious that you’ve got the motive and that starts to get messy. ” Havoc stood up and paced the room. “Besides. I have to see his shit face in that forced Internationals club they stuck me in, and I really don’t want to listen to Marty cry if we offed him. He’s sensitive.” He flashed Joey a sympathetic smile.

“But. Fuck it. You’re on the market now. You should act like it. Rebound revenge can be cathartic or something.” He started looking through the desk drawers at the front of the class like he was grocery shopping. 

Joey laid his cheek on the desk and pouted at Jimmy as he went through the various drawers. “What if instead of doing that I just got some Taco Bell, ate it in bed, and then slept until Thursday?” 

“You’re thinking, and I like that. But lets table it right above killing Kip Sabian. Sort of a plan B situation.” Havoc dumped the contents of the drawer on the floor, but he still didn’t find what it was after.

“We’ll just. Change your look up a bit. Ah. Keys.” They had been taped up against the desk for hiding. “Your nails look like shit.” He’d noticed during their game. The keys opened one of metal cabinets left over when the school could be trusted to have a chemistry department. The chemicals had understandably long since been disposed of, but now it served as a lock box for the things they took from the students in detention. 

“I’ve got black. And gray. And this dark red.” Havoc pulled out the polish bottles and held them up. 

Joey held up his hand and looked at the very very bad job he had done on his nails. He had done them when he was drunk after the breakup and they were supposed to be purple but he’d had to color them in with a Sharpie enough times that they were basically shitty black now. 

He felt like having them look this bad was a better representation of how his week was going. Besides why make them look nice if he wasn’t going to do anything with them? But… But well maybe it would make him feel a little better… 

“None’a my purple in there?” Any of the colors would work he guessed but if this was going to be a self care thing he wanted it to be his color. 

“The one they took because they were convinced you were huffing it? No. Got a blue, though. If you’re so hard for purple we can play art class.” He grabbed the blue and the red and returned.

“I’d say we could do your hair if the bastard hadn’t swiped my straight razor.” He pulled up a chair to Janela’s desk once more and sat the bottles out. “Or… If you have anything she gave you, we could burn it and give you a tattoo that says ‘Fuck Penelope’ with the ashes? Sound good..? Hm?”

“Why would I huff nail polish when one of the Jackson boys literally always has spraypaint?” he wiggled around in his chair, leaning his head back so his hair spread all over the desk. The idea of setting anything on fire always brightened his mood but something of Penelope’s… well for one he didn’t have anything of hers on him and for two… he was pretty sure having her name on his arm would just bum him out in a few weeks. 

“Let’s do arts and crafts,” He stretched his arms out and grinned, “Then you can set my hair on fire and we’ll see if Prick Jericho comes to keep his students from burning alive.”

Jimmy huffed a laugh as he shook the polish bottles a few times and unscrewed the lids. He started with the blue. There were lots of things Havoc didn’t take care with. This wasn’t one of them. 

“Y’know. Moxley always carries spraypaint, too. Gave him a piercing a few weeks back. You got anywhere you’d like a hole, we can do that.” 

Joey pursed his lips, now there was an idea for sure. A piercing? That could be cool. That could be badass! Yeah why not? Now where to get one? His tongue? He stuck it out, no… if something went wrong with it he wanted to keep his tongue. He used it for too many things. Well, fewer things now that Penelope left him. But he wanted to keep his tongue. Ears? Nah, everyone got their ears pierced. It is the bleaching your hair of piercings, everyone did it. He needed something else, something more… 

“How about my nose?” he smiled at Jimmy and tapped his left nostril, “If something happens to my left at least I have my right one.” Jimmy glared at him briefly, and pulled his hand back down to the desk so he could finish his work on his nails first.

“Not sure that’s how it works. But, I’m not a medical doctor, am I?” He was pretty certain it’d be fine. They were probably locked in here with a first aid kit somewhere, anyway.    
“Give me a minute while those dry. I’m sure I can find something.” Last nail painted, Jimmy stood back up to stalk the room and choose his weapon. 

“You still fucking about with that skateboard now and then…?”

Joey, impatient as he was, had already started blowing and poking at this nails to see if they were dry. They were not. “Skateboard?” he frowned, waving his hand around in the air trying to get it dry. “Is that about that twiggy little freshmen, what is his name? Yanni?” Joey had run into him a few times so far. He was fine, weird, but fine. 

“Darby,” Jimmy corrected easily. “He was just in here the other days’ all. Jericho was in rare form handing out naughty slips.” He furrowed his brow as he plundered the desk. Push pins, safety pins, heavy duty upholstery tacks, a staple gun. He held onto the last thing longest before setting it out on the desk. “He jumped out the window… Seems alright.” 

“Ah,” Joey began, he started to sit up then remembered he was both sitting backwards and laying over his desk. He grunted and attempted to scramble into a sitting position, finally changing his mind and just collapsing out of the floor. “Ah,” He tried again, “The old Moxley special.” 

“Mm,” Jimmy agreed, taking one last look at his supplies before selecting the staple gun and the largest safety pin he could find. “Moving detention to the second floor didn’t do as much as they’d hoped.” There was an air of fondness in his voice. He navigated through the row of desks to where Janela was splayed out on the floor and stood over him, swath of black hair over an eye. “Ready?” He gave the staple gun a test squeeze.

Joey grinned and gave a thumbs up. 

~~~

“Jimmy?” Joey asked, “Jimmy why is there so much blood?” 

“Because you won’t stop talking. It’s fine- It’s not that bad.” Jimmy’s black shirt was, at least currently soaking up the worst of it, now that he’d pulled it off to hold under Joey’s face. “It’ll let up any second now.” He glanced at where the initial spray had landed some several feet away.

“It’s just a lot of blood, man.” Joey said then suddenly laughed, it was almost as much blood as the first window he jumped through in freshmen year. That was the first time Penelope had decided to take a break. Then six months later he let Jimmy throw an old computer at him after Penelope broke up with him again. Then a year later he jumped out a window through a pallet of light tubes after Penelope said she was leaving him for a guy at Triple H, which hadn’t lasted but definitely stung.. “Dude, staple me somewhere else.” Joey said, pulling away from him and reaching up to twist the staple around in his nose, “Come on man, hit me.” 

“Fuck me, hold on a second.” In the interim Jimmy had, having felt left out, put a staple into his palm that’d managed to wedge the gun. Now maybe Joey wouldn’t be concerned about the blood loss, seeing as how it wasn’t all his.

“You know,” He managed to free himself from the gun and twirled it on a finger before planting it on Joey’s thigh. “I’d say you’re shite at coping but. This is fun.”

Joey let out a wild giggle and reared back to chop at Jimmy, “This isn’t healthy?” he closed his eyes and grinned, taking the staple right in the forehead. A rush of endorphins and adrenaline filled him as he yanked his shirt off and ran right at Jimmy, grabbing him around the middle and tackling him into the filing cabinet. Heavy as it was, being solid metal, it was no match for two teenage boys slamming into it. It toppled with a loud clatter and a dent shaped like Jimmy’s shoulder in it’s side.

Soon as his head stopped spinning he had an arm around Joey’s neck, the free hand moving to rank out the staple planted in his head as they rolled around the floor.

“Alright, you kids are free to…” 

Joey looked up, his tongue stuck out at the staple gun, blood gushing from his nose and a scrape on his head. 

“Holy- Okay. Yeah. That was on me. I should’ve known better.” At least by the third time, Jericho figured. 

Jimmy was still trying to choke Joey out when their principal finally yanked him off. 

“T’s fine, we’re fine,” he giggled, wiping a piece of hair that was blood-stuck to his face out of the way. 

“This is healthy!” Joey said, scrabbling at Jimmy with a wild grin, “He still has to staple me through the tongue!” 

“No, no,” Jericho held them as far apart as possible, watching them try and get at each other, “Not with school-owned supplies and not on campus.” He grabbed a bare shoulder from each boy and shoved them out the door. “Detention is over- And...Stop enjoying it!” 

Jimmy managed to, despite being restrained, butt his forehead into Joey’s one last time as they were ushed out.

Joey flopped over onto the ground, reaching up to push a hand through his hair, blood and sweat tangling his hand halfway through. “That was awesome,” He spread his arms out on the grass, he reached to smack at Jimmy’s arm but ended up hitting his face instead. “We should get detention more often.” He stuffed the hand that wasn’t groping Jimmy’s face into his pocket and pulled out a cookies and cream cigarillo. Jimmy considered taking a bite out the thumb pressed against his mouth. He collapsed instead, head thunking on Joey’s ribs before he slid off fully into the grass.

“We get...Detention all the time,” he reminded him with an exhale. This was going to hurt tomorrow. It was sorta hurting now. But he was smiling. He gave Joey a few slap pats on the thigh, certain their romp at least took the edge off. “That thing stinks,” he commented. 

“It’s good, man!” Joey laughed as he took a long drag off his cigarillo and blew the smoke out of his nose which reminded him of the staple that was rammed through his nostrils. “Oh hey, you still got that safety pin?” 


End file.
